


The Days After

by istra_cor



Series: Enamore [9]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Aftermath, Allergies, Cat Ears, Commercials, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Love, Making Out, Paparazzi, Post-Canon, True Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Zen | Hyun Ryu's Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-11-07 12:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11059440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istra_cor/pseuds/istra_cor
Summary: This is the story of the days immediately following RFA's first party successfully coordinated by Dr. Mara Claire "MC" Valle-Scott, a young widow and medical resident who stumbled into RFA during a two-week visit to Seoul, and fell in love with musical actor Zen. Zen and MC successfully, if accidentally, navigated their first night together at Zen's apartment when the beast was kept at bay by adrenaline and fatigue. How will they do now that the crisis has passed? How will Zen's brother react when Zen introduces MC to him? Will Zen's allergies prevent him from shooting Jumin's cat food commercial? And how will Zen and MC negotiate a long-distance relationship after MC leaves?





	1. After Party

**Author's Note:**

> Events immediately following the Zen route good ending as depicted in my Enamore series, and inspired partly by the Christmas DLC AU.

Like all fun get-togethers, the hours of the RFA party pass quickly in the presence of good food, company and conversation. I find myself seated at a table with Zen and the other members, who periodically get up to mingle with their party guests. Most reflect their online personas and how V described them. Like a family, their strengths complement each other and their affection is disguised by snide remarks at and picking on each other. Jaehee and I are somewhat exempt,  except for Jumin treating her like a hired hand and Zen hovering protectively close to me. They are welcoming, some more than others still embarrassed and apologetic about recent events at Rika’s apartment. I am a little abashed that I have been accepted by this group so readily. Zen seems more relaxed around his friends, especially after finishing the press conference. It appears his message was well-received, and our guests seem pleased. V’s prints were efficiently put on display by staff at Jaehee’s direction, and their auction raises a considerable sum. There is a little talk at our table of V’s absence, but the subject matter is postponed for another day.

I am quiet as Zen and I make our way home, sitting in the car with my head resting on his shoulder, our fingers entwined on his lap. Home… how easy it is for me to start thinking of Zen’s place this way, when everything between us is so new. I suppose it is because, as they say, home is where the heart is. I sigh happily, scarcely believing how so much has turned around in my life in the last week.

“Babe, we’re here,” Zen half-whispers, interrupting my reverie and letting my hand go just long enough to exit the car. He offers his hand again to help me out.

“Thank you,” I murmur to our driver as I slide out of the back seat. It is late, and night has fallen. The goldfish-shaped bread wagon is closed for a few hours, until Mr. Kim comes back to start another early day. I am grateful for his willingness to step forward as a witness to the truth of Zen’s story versus Echo Girl’s, and resolve to become a regular patron.

Zen squeezes my hand as he opens the door into the building, but instead of heading down to his basement apartment, he leads me upstairs to the rooftop. I follow, my thoughts full. I shiver a little in the night air and he takes his jacket off to drape it over my shoulders, leaving an arm resting lightly across my upper back.

I lean into him, and gaze at the stars above us. His words from the press conference keep playing over and over in my head.

“I meant what I said,” Zen says, as if reading my thoughts. He turns slightly, and captures my gaze. The hue of his rose-colored eyes is less prominent in the darkness, but I am lost in them anyway. “MC, my heart beats for you, and only you.”

“Zenny…” I murmur, before his lips touch mine. His kisses are soft, but grow more demanding. I let one hand that was resting on his chest slip around his neck, trying to bring him closer, drinking in his scent. I try to tell him with my kiss that the heart hammering in my chest is also his.

When the kiss breaks, his face is buried in my hair, and mine is in his chest. I don’t want him to ever let go. I can feel his hand on my shoulder, caressing me through his jacket. “MC,” he asks, “will you stay here with me tonight?”

“Of course,” I say simply. “I always want to be with you.”

He inhales sharply. “I mean… God! I don’t want to presume anything; I don’t want you to think that I would take your presence here for granted. I know you came here with me last night after that--” He chokes on the words, “--that bomb, and you were scared. I wanted to bring you here so I could protect you. I don’t even like to think about what could have happened to you, how close I came to losing you! But I don’t expect you to stay--I mean, I want it to be your choice and not mine. Though if I could, I would keep you with me forever.”

I draw back slightly, and feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Zenny, whether I am next to you or farther away, my heart is yours.”

He crushes me in his arms, and I revel in this feeling, of being together after days of longing to be with each other. “I swear by these stars, MC,” he whispers fiercely. “As long as I have breath or strength, I will spend my days trying to make you happy.”

My eyes begin to well, and he is about to kiss me again, when we are interrupted by the shrill ringing of his phone. We try to ignore it, but the noise is insistent, intrusive, and the spell on the rooftop is broken. Zen huffs in impatience as he answers the call. “Jumin, dude,” he says, “it’s late!... Yes, we’re back at my place… No, she’s not going anywhere else... I _know_ you don’t approve of people living together before marriage.” He gestures at me, waving his hand toward the stairs, so we head back down them to his apartment. I catch snippets of his conversation with Jumin. Zen runs a hand through his hair exasperatedly. “No, I am _not_ going to take advantage of MC… Look, you do understand that I love her, right?... We’ll figure something out… You’re sending Jaehee over here when? We don’t need a babysitter!... Fine. Fine! We’ll see her soon...” I duck into the bathroom. When I emerge, Zen is pacing. He glances at his watch. “... I’ll be up, but we should let MC sleep and get some rest.” He hangs up and collapses onto the couch, loosening his cravat.

“I take it that Jaehee is coming,” I surmise.

He takes one of my hands in both of his, and his tone is thoughtful. “Look, I know we shared a bed last night...” he begins.

“Uh-huh,” I agree, wondering where this is leading, and trying not to let my imagination get too far ahead of me.

He sighs, and seems to square his shoulders. “Mara Claire,” he says, his voice like a caress as he says my full name. I can’t help myself; my breath hitches. “I--we--were both scared. I didn’t want to let you out of my sight.” When I raise an eyebrow, he amends, “Well, okay, I went to the store to get food, and to the cleaners to get my suit, but I made sure Jumin’s guards were close by! What I’m trying to say is: I was just so relieved that you were safe and here with me. I could scarcely believe we were finally together. I could barely sleep, I had so much adrenaline pumping through me getting away from that wacko with the bomb trigger. I couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened! I lay awake half the night just listening to your breathing.”

“Now, well--that idiot blew himself to bits, the press conference is done, and we have our lives together ahead of us. And I… I’m just a man. I can feel... every time you breathe.” He sounds apologetic. “I don’t know if I… can…”

“‘Control the beast?’” I suggest.

His shoulders sag in relief that I seem to understand. “You have no idea how hard I’m trying not to be one.”

I feel a giggle bubbling up from my throat. I’m not sure what’s more comical--that this gorgeous specimen of a man sounds so unsure of himself, or that he’s having trouble explaining it to me.

“What’s so funny?” he demands, which makes me laugh even harder. I can hardly control myself, and am in stitches, practically rolling. My skirt, already short, is hiking dangerously up my thighs. “MC!” he half-cries in alarm, but I notice he can’t take his eyes off me.

It takes over a minute, but I finally calm down enough to reply. “Oh Zenny,” I shake my head. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know how this works,” I say, placing a hand on his knee.

He inches away from me, looking flustered. “You know you can’t do that to any other guy, right--? I’m the only one who has enough strength to hold back. God--! My male genes and my rationality are battling each other to death right now.”

“Hrmph,” I snort, crossing my arms. "Are _you_ saying I would flirt with just any other guy?" That's pretty rich, coming from Mr. Flirt Supremo Mutant himself.

Zen frowns slightly, and takes my hand back, his thumb absently stroking the back of it. My annoyance starts to melt away, and I wonder how so much warmth can be concentrated in one spot. If he keeps this up, I may explode. 

“Listen to me,” he says, and of course I do, because his voice is mesmerizing. “I told the whole world at the press conference that you’re the only woman in the world for me, and I intend to make good on that promise. But I want to do this properly. We may have had an unconventional start, but I don’t want anyone to think less of you because of me.”

He takes my face is in his hands as he speaks. “My MC, I once told you I would make a good husband.”

I lean my forehead against his. “I agreed with you, if you remember.”

He grins boyishly. “I do. I about had a heart attack when you suggested we get married.”

“I meant what I said!” I protest. “Well, sort of. I don’t… play games of the heart, Zenny. Unless-- you weren’t serious?” I ask uncertainly.

He scowls. “Of course I was. I’d longed to be with you even then.”

I let my head rest on his shoulder. “Then what are you saying?”

“I… I called my family, you know, and I swallowed my pride when the first thing my brother asked was whether I needed money.” There is a lump in my throat, but I stay silent and listen to him. “I want to mend my relationship with them, so that I can introduce you. I don’t want them to be able to say anything against you, my love, so I want to… to wait, until I can claim you to be completely mine, my wife, body and soul. Then you can join our family.”

 

“Oh no,” I say, realizing something. “Doctor Valle-Scott-Ryu,” I say, testing it out loud. “Ugh!”

“Something the matter?” he asks.

“That sounds terrible,” I groan. “And so much _paperwork.”_

“Well, in the Korean convention, you could keep your name,” he suggests.

I blink in realization. “Oh." I chew on my lip thoughtfully. "I’ve always used whichever name my patients found easiest, at any rate, so frequently it was just ‘Doctor Valle’ or ‘Doctor Scott.’” 

He nods. “One of the reasons I chose ‘Zen’--it’s easy, but memorable.”

“You’re definitely memorable, Zen, but are you saying you’re easy?” I tease.

He caresses my cheek and kisses me soundly. “When it comes to you, MC, I am easy to please.” I kiss him back, and we shift on the couch, so that his weight is on me. I let my fingers run over the muscles of his back, and hear his sharp intake of breath. So much for waiting, I think. At this rate, I don’t know if either of us are going to be able to keep control--

The doorbell chimes and Zen lets go of me reluctantly to answer it. I sit up and try to straighten the wrinkles out of my dress. “Hello, Jaehee,” I greet as she enters the living room.

She has a small overnight bag with her, as well as a file folio. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but Mr. Han can be very insistent when he chooses,” she says smoothly, as if she were accustomed to Jumin’s varying moods and strange requests. “I apologize, Zen, for my intrusion into your home, but Mr. Han wants to make sure we do not undo any good that has come from the press conference.” I also wonder whether she volunteered to come to protect Zen’s reputation. “I did bring a proposal for the TV spot he wanted you to look at,” she continues, pulling a thick folder from her files. As she flips it open, I see costume designs and some storyboarding.

“That was quick,” Zen comments, taking the folder from her and setting it on the coffee table to leaf through it. He frowns distastefully at the first page, and enters a fit of violent sneezing. I slide over next to him to peer at the page, and it’s a montage of Elizabeth the 3rd’s photos interspersed with logo and design ideas for _Holistic Food for Glorious Cats._ I flip to the next few pages. The product is branded as luxury pet food, top-of-the-line for the most privileged of cats. There is a play on the idea of pets resembling their owners, a dream sequence of a cat-like Zen singing, and Elizabeth the 3rd enjoying the food then resting in Zen's arms. I realize how much their coloring complements each other: Elizabeth's snow-white fur is a good match for Zen's hair. The visual is striking, and pairing them together is genius. I wonder if Jumin already realized this when he first proposed the idea to Zen. If so, Jumin's business acumen is pretty shrewd. That in turn explains his success, not just as a corporate heir, but as a businessman in his own right.

“Some of these are pretty cool,” I opine.

 Jaehee nods. “Mr. Han has a concept team that has been working on this since Zen agreed to do the commercial. If Zen agrees, we should be ready to shoot in two days.”

“Oh, I’d love to watch you work!” I gush at Zen.

“It couldn’t have been a musical show, unfortunately,” he says, rubbing his nose. He flips to another page, this one of sheet music, as Jaehee boots up her laptop. She plays an MP3 accompaniment and Zen picks up the tune.

“That’s kind of catchy,” I comment.

“I also brought a few of my DVDs from my collection of Zen’s shows,” she says to me, pulling out a number from her bag and setting them on the corner of the table. I clap in glee, but wonder how big the collection actually is if this stack is 'a few.'

“It’s going to take us days to work on the commercial, with my allergies,” Zen complains, nodding towards the proposal. I grab him a Kleenex as he has another sneezing fit.

“Actually,” I volunteer, “I have an idea about that. We need to visit your doctor and hit the pharmacy tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Zen agrees. “But I hope you don’t mind going out for lunch first?”

“Sure. We can have goldfish-shaped bread in the morning."

“I mean--with my brother,” Zen clarifies. “I want to introduce you to my family.”

“Okay,” I reply.

A loud clatter in Jaehee’s direction alerts us that she has managed to topple the stack of DVDs.

“Are you okay?” I ask, hurrying to help her pick them up. “Which one should we start with?”

“I thought we should go chronologically, if that’s okay with you?” Jaehee suggests.

“Makes sense to me,” I say, nodding.

“Zen’s parts are really small in some of these shows,” she says apologetically, “but I believe I have nearly everything he’s been in. I just picked these ones to bring tonight.”

“You even have _Tei’s Tea Leaf_ , _”_ Zen remarks, running his fingers over the spine titles. Rising, he says, “If you ladies will excuse me, however, I have to call my brother to confirm lunch tomorrow,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I giggle as he leaves the room. Jaehee grabs my arm. “MC, do you know what that means?”

“Sorry?” I ask.

“I’m not sure you understand the significance of Zen taking you to meet his family,” she says slowly. “I understand that in the U.S., and maybe in the Philippines, it’s not unusual for you to introduce even your first or casual boyfriend or girlfriend to your family. However, in Korea, the only significant other our parents meet is the one who is joining the family. He wants to marry you.”

I blink in realization as I take this in. “Oh!” I exclaim. “Uh… yeah.” I cannot wipe a goofy grin off my face. Zen and I had been discussing it earlier, but hearing it from someone else seems to make it that much more real.

“Marriage here is not just between two people,” Jaehee explains. “It is the joining of two families, perhaps moreso with us than in other cultures.”

“Oh dear,” I squeak. “I hope that they like me.”

Jaehee smiles reassuringly. “I believe Zen is taking you to meet his brother first to get him on your side,” she surmises, “and considering what you have done for Zen, what you have already accomplished in your life, not to mention what you’ve done for the RFA, they would be foolish not to accept you.”

“I hope so,” I say.


	2. It's Just Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zen introduces MC to his brother, hoping to reconcile with his family. They also visit his "secret place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Zen so much after finishing the 11 days on his route and have just started playing the other routes. When I write this FF, I can keep Zen and MC's story going on in my head.

I dress with care the following morning. Jaehee left for work early. She and I had ended up camping out in the living room overnight binge-watching Zen’s shows on DVD. Zen sighed unhappily when he realized I wasn’t going to join him in bed, but I think it was just as well not to challenge how far his control went.

Or mine, for that matter. Last night, he exited the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist while Jaehee and I were in the kitchen making a late-night snack. Jaehee’s eyes bulged in admiration, but she averted her gaze respectfully.  I managed to knock several things off the counter onto the floor, making a huge racket. I poured myself a tall and very cold drink. Zen winked at me, teasing, as I muttered under my breath.

Jaehee let us know that the car and bodyguards Jumin sent are staying with us until they take me to the airport in two days. I’m starting to wonder if they’re playing the role of chaperones too, but it is nice not to worry about transportation and parking for the rest of the time I’m in Seoul. Jaehee says it’s part of Jumin’s plan to protect his investment.

Whatever the reason, I am grateful.

The restaurant we head to for lunch is close to the business district and busy, but we arrive somewhat early and have a table waiting. Zen spots his brother easily when the latter enters, the former approaching a man about ten years his senior, almost his height, dark hair cropped conservatively and buttoned up in a crisp business suit. There is a resemblance in the angles of their facial features, but Zen’s fair coloring renders them striking, while his brother’s is dark, his gaze flat. Zen bows respectfully to his brother, and they make their way back to our table as I get to my feet. “Jin-Yun,” Zen introduces, “this is MC.”

I bow deeply. _“Anyoung haseyo_ ,” I greet Jin-Yun, as Zen pulls the chair for me to sit back down. Jin-Yun bows slightly in return, just low enough to avoid being an open insult. From the corner of my eye, I see Zen’s nostrils flare, and his grip on the back of my chair tightens briefly.

“So, Hyun, you are still acting?” his brother asks, once we are all seated and the server has taken our orders.

“Yes,” Zen replies. “I’ve managed to make a living with my acting and music.”

“I see,” Jin-Yun nods, his tone vaguely unimpressed. “You were in the news recently.”

“That's right,” Zen agrees. “I hope you saw my press conference yesterday.”

Jin-Yun sniffs. “It was not good that you allowed this Echo Girl to entrap you.”.

Zen’s mouth clamps down in a tight line. “I did nothing improper, brother,” he says patiently. “At least not what Kyungju--Echo Girl--claims. She came to my home late at night.”

“And yet you told the entire press corps about your relationship with MC before you introduce her to your family,” Jin-Yun says accusingly.

“I did that so they could understand how I couldn’t possibly be with anyone else,” Zen explains. His voice is tight and clipped. Under the table, I take his hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

“I suppose you,” Jin-Yun says, turning to me, “are also in show business. And you are not Korean.”

“No, I am not Korean,” I answer in measured tones, using the voice I employ when explaining things to difficult patients. “You are mistaken, however, about my profession. I am in my second year of family medicine residency at Brookdale Hospital in New York.”

Jin-Yun hesitates for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected information and digesting it slowly. “Residency?” He peers at me again carefully, as if regarding me for the first time. “You are... a physician?”

“Yes,” I confirm. I take not a small amount of satisfaction in wiping the smirk of smug superiority off his face.

He recovers quickly. “Why are you with my brother?” Jin-Yun demands bluntly.

I take a deep breath. “I am visiting Seoul en route to see my family in the Philippines. My husband died several months ago.” Jin-Yun’s brow furrows, but I forge ahead. “I certainly did not expect to meet Zen--Hyun--while I was here, but we did, and he has been most… solicitous in his attentions.”

Jin-Yun appears thunderstruck. “But he is just an actor!”

“Where talent and passion meet, there is success,” I quote. “Hyun is quite gifted in his field. He works hard to exceed expectations, and he is becoming more recognized for it. In fact,” I say, leaning forward and lowering my voice conspiratorially, “his newest project is in partnership with Jumin Han. Perhaps you know Jumin, the project director of C&R International? Zen is to be the spokesperson for a new product line he is launching.”

Jin-Yun blanches slightly. “You are on a first-name basis with Jumin Han?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “He was Zen’s friend before he was mine,” I say blandly, though perhaps the statement is a mild exaggeration. Zen and Jumin could barely stand each other a few days ago.

Jin-Yun, however, looks from Zen, to me, then back to his brother, as if reconsidering his opinions. “It seems,” he says slowly, “that you have met with some success, Hyun.”

Zen squeezes my hand back, murmuring “Thank you,” under his breath to me. Aloud, to his brother, he says, “Jin-Yun, it isn’t for lack of fortune that I called you. Meeting MC has… convinced me that I need to look at my past with fresh eyes. I would like her to be part of our family someday, but to do that, I need to heal the rift between us first.”

Jin-Yun frowns slightly before he finally replies. “I am glad you called to have lunch with me today, Hyun. Perhaps you are correct that it is time for our family to reconcile. Have you called Mother and Father?”

Zen nods slowly. “I tried, but they didn’t pick up, so I left a message. I haven’t heard back, so I thought I would ask for your advice. I want to introduce MC to them.”

“It is good that we have the opportunity to speak first, then," Jin-Yun states. "Mother was very worried when you ran away, and was glad when we received news you were holding your own. However, Father’s pride was hurt deeply by your rejection of our family. He may be more resistant.” He straightens in his seat. “I will call them after you leave, and let them know you wish to visit.”

“Thank you, brother,” Zen says gratefully.

* * *

The car takes us to a suburb with small but well-tended gardens. Zen helps me out of the car and doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk to the front door of a modest home. He takes a deep, nervous breath.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says determinedly, before reaching out to ring the doorbell.

We stand there for a few minutes, but no one answers. Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see the corner of a drape upstairs twitch. We wait a while longer, till Zen’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“Hey,” I say reassuringly, smoothing the lapel of his jacket. “Maybe they’re not home?”

Zen shakes his head. “It’s summer break,” he explains. “No school. Jin-Yun told me they’d be here.” He turns away from the house. “Let’s head back to the car.”

We are about to pull away when Zen’s phone rings. He picks it up quickly. “Hello?... Mom?”

I listen to his half of the conversation, and turn to look back at the house. The silhouette of a woman is visible behind a half-drawn curtain. Zen has also turned around, and the figure raises her hand in greeting. “... I’m sorry you had to see that on TV… I’m fine. I wanted you and Dad to meet MC… It’s okay, we’ll come back another time… Thanks for calling… I love you too. Please tell Dad I… miss you both.” He leans back into the seat as the call ends.

“I’m sorry that didn’t work out as you had hoped,” I offer.

“That’s alright,” he says. The smile that appears on his face is hopeful. “I’m glad you’ve met my brother. At least Mom seems to be coming around.”

“What now, Zenny?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Mom won’t make a move without Dad. It will take a while.” He leans forward to speak to the driver, giving him directions in Korean. “I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” I agree.

The drive takes a couple of hours on a small road through woods. I vaguely discern that we seem to be ascending. Finally, the road clears to a small pull-out, and there is a gorgeous view of Seoul from the ledge. We get out and I understand that Zen has taken me to his secret place.

“I like to come here to think,” Zen says, resting his arms on a railing separating the ledge from the valley below. “My problems seem insignificant, when I see how small the city looks from here.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say, leaning against him. “Thank you for sharing it with me. I can see why you like it so much. It’s so peaceful here.”

He puts an arm around my shoulders, then turns toward me. “Yes, beautiful,” he agrees, except I don’t think he’s talking about the view anymore. I feel his weight shift, his lips against my head. I turn slightly and we share a long, lingering kiss.

“Will you be alright, while I’m away?” I murmur, after the kiss breaks.

“I’ll be okay,” he says. “But I’ll count every day till I see you again. Though… that shouldn’t be too long.”

I pull back. “What do you mean?” I ask, searching his rose-colored yes.

He grins. “Jumin is giving me a good advance on my contract, so I decided to take a vacation… to the Philippines.”

“Oh Zenny, that would be wonderful!” I squeal in delight. “Oh dear,” I say, coming to a quick realization.

“What’s the matter, MC?” he asks.

“You’re going to have to stay in the guest quarters when we visit my family,” I explain. “It’s in a separate building. My parents are very proper about this sort of thing. And… gahhh, I have to tell them about you.”

He chuckles. “Tell them you fell for my devastatingly good looks.”

“Well of course I did,” I admit. “But even moreso,” say, putting my hand on his chest, “I fell for the man who offered me his heart so completely.”

Zen smiles, and kisses me again. “It is yours, now till the end of my life.”


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between 707 and Jumin after the RFA party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the MM Zen good ending route.

The phone rings in the underground apartment, interrupting the hum of computers and the clickety-clack of keyboard activity. Seven pulls his orange headphones off, letting them rest around his neck, and leans back in his chair as he takes the call. “Hello?”

“Luciel, it’s Jumin. Have you heard from V?”

“I haven’t heard from or seen V since the night before the party,” Seven replies. “I thought he was going to stay here, but he left after I gave him the information on the religious cult that hacked into the special security system.”

“And he didn’t tell you where he was going?” Jumin asks.

“Nope.”

“What exactly did you say to Assistant Kang when you arrived at the banquet hall yesterday? She thought V came with you.”

Seven clicks his tongue. “As I explained, I only said that V's photographs were in my car, and I needed help to bring them into the exhibit hall.”

“Ah,” Jumin says. “She must have assumed he arrived with you when you said that.” He pauses. “Were you able to track any news about the explosion at Rika’s apartment?”

“I took care of any potential complications for MC and Zen. V suggested I hack into the building’s security cameras and remove any traces of them from the building's security feed.”

“You did?”

“V thought it would be best. I didn’t find anything about the intruder in the building’s recordings, though. MC said that he broke through the window, which means he knew how to get around the special security system, so I went to the apartment last night. The explosion took out everything. I checked and there was nothing in the police report about MC’s things or the intruder, and they are still investigating possible causes for the explosion. The newspapers are speculating it was an accident.”

“I’m troubled that the intruder knew how to get around your security system, Luciel, and why he seemed to know you.”

“You’re not the only one. I’ve been been working nonstop since Zen and MC told us about him. I found evidence that he climbed down from the rooftop to Rika’s apartment window, but I haven’t been able to put all the puzzle pieces together yet.” Seven pauses as new information appears on his desktop. “Well… This is interesting.”

“What?” Jumin asks.

“There’s a report of another explosion a few hours after the one at Rika’s apartment, close to the location of the religious cult I told V about. I wonder if there’s a connection?”

“Should I send a team there to investigate?”

“I’ll do it myself, Jumin, if I don’t hear from V soon. He said he would request a professional investigation.”

“Let me know if you find anything else, Luciel, or what other resources you need. I think we should brief the other members on our plans,” Jumin proposes. “Let’s not make the same mistake as V, keeping so many secrets from each other about the RFA.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Seven agrees. “Seven, over and out.” He hangs up, but his gaze falls on a book, where he keeps a disk. “Some secrets are meant to be kept, however,” he mutters to himself.


	4. Cat Food Commercial Shooting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zen committed to being the model for Jumin's cat food commercial, but how is he going to cope with his allergies when he can barely stand being in the same room as Elizabeth the 3rd? Fortunately, his new girlfriend, Dr. Mara Claire "MC" Valle-Scott has a few tricks up her sleeve.

There are a few paparazzi outside the studio when Zen and I arrive on set early the next day. My new sunglasses have become de rigeur when we travel together. Zen remains close and protective as ever, but is careful not to give them fodder to publish embarrassing photos of public displays of affection.

In the dressing room, I pull out the contents from our visit to the pharmacy yesterday and line them up on the counter. With Zen translating, I had asked his doctor to prescribe a nasal antihistamine, a leukotriene receptor antagonist, and oral steroids to try to get Zen through the commercial shoot with Elizabeth the 3rd. The doctor was nice enough, but looked doubtful at first, since Zen is hardly ever ill and possesses a phenomenal healing rate. Zen described the severity of his symptoms when he was just standing in the same room as Elizabeth the 3rd, and I finally had to pull up the photo that Seven took of Zen’s allergy attack to convince him. The shoot would include Zen having to hold the cat, so I felt we really ought to have everything we could get to throw at his allergies. Zen frowned disapprovingly when he saw the photo. I laughed when I caught him smiling at his phone and taking selfies later, probably to reassure himself. Of course, I didn’t mind when he sent them to me either. ^^

Later, at the pharmacy, when I could finally get the pharmacist’s eyes off Zen, we also picked up a third-generation 24-hour antihistamine, a first-generation (and therefore more sedating) antihistamine dosed every 6 hours as needed*, a steroid nasal spray, a bottle of saline rinse solution, and allergy eye drops over-the-counter. I gave Zen the leukotriene receptor antagonist and third-gen antihistamine that night; he ended up going to bed early and stayed soundly asleep till morning, a fact which Jaehee seemed to appreciate for some unknown reason.

Now, Zen looks dubiously at the line-up of medications. “Are these going to put me to sleep like the medicine you gave me last night?” he asks suspiciously.

“Not these ones that I want you to use right now,” I reply, picking up the nasal sprays and eye drops. I chuckle. “I didn’t realize you’d be such a lightweight with antihistamines. Maybe it’s your mutant kryptonite.”

Zen snorts in annoyance. “I don’t usually need them, and I don’t like them,” he grumbles. “In fact, I’m still dragging a bit this morning.” However, he grudgingly accepts my demonstration of the nasal sprays and uses them after my disapproving frown. He tips his head back and lets me put in the eye drops.

I step out of the dressing room so Zen can change, and spot Jaehee and Jumin conferring with their creative team, so I head over. Jaehee is balancing, rather awkwardly, a clipboard and several files under one arm, and a luxurious pet carrier with a snow-white cat in the other. Jumin is inspecting the set-up and seems oblivious to Jaehee’s difficulty, so I rescue the clipboard and files from Jaehee before they fall onto the floor. She smiles gratefully. “Well, it’s done,” I say to Jaehee.

Jumin turns. “What’s done?” he asks.

“I gave Zen _five_ different allergy medications,” I explain to Jumin, “and I have a couple of others to try if we need them.” I’m hoping we can make it through without the additional antihistamine and oral steroids, but that remains to be seen.

Jumin seems pleased. “Good. If we can get this done in a timely fashion, it will be easier for Elizabeth the 3rd.” Behind him, Jaehee rolls her eyes, which makes me giggle. “Is something funny?” Jumin asks.

I shake my head. “It’s nothing.” Turning to Jaehee, I say, “This is exciting.”

She nods in agreement. “This is definitely going to boost Zen’s exposure in the public eye.”

“We should try to minimize Zen’s exposure to Elizabeth the 3rd, however,” I advise, nodding towards the pet carrier.

“You can take Elizabeth the 3rd to her dressing room,” Jumin says to Jaehee. “She’ll be happier out of the carrier.”

After Jaehee leaves, I take a seat next to Jumin on the set, close to the director. Zen enters in a white leather outfit accented with white faux fur and cat ears; the effect, along with his coloring, is striking. I catch his gaze and give him an appreciative thumbs-up, and he winks back at me.

The director chooses to film Zen’s sequences first, moving with cat-like grace across the set and singing the catchy jingle for the commercial. Jumin gives his opinion freely and frequently, but Zen makes short work of the script. The director calls for the set to turn over to Elizabeth the 3rd’s scenes, so Zen excuses himself. I follow him back to the dressing room, waiting outside while he changes into his final outfit.

He opens the door after changing into a casual outfit of a white button-down shirt and jeans. The stylist fixes his hair back into its usual ponytail. “You looked awfully cute in your cat outfit,” I say, fingering the ears he’s removed that are sitting on the counter in front of him.

“You would say that when I can’t kiss you and wrinkle this shirt,” he chuckles, reaching for my hand.

A production assistant comes to call Zen back to the set for his shots with Elizabeth the 3rd. Zen frowns slightly, and his nose twitches as if he’s wanting to scratch it. “Hey,” I say encouragingly, squeezing his hand, “you’ll be okay.”

Zen squares his shoulders. “Well, this is what being a professional actor is about.” He heads out.

I grab a box of tissues from the countertop just in case, and follow.

Jumin already has Elizabeth the 3rd in his arms and is speaking to her in soothing, low tones. The director is speaking to him and Zen, who eyes Elizabeth the 3rd suspiciously. Zen’s nose twitches, but I see him visibly will himself to put on a relaxed demeanor.

The scenes involve Zen offering a dish of food to Elizabeth the 3rd, who runs up to the dish while Zen smiles in affection. In between takes, Zen rubs his nose mildly, but otherwise seems to be doing okay.

“Zen seems to be doing just fine with Elizabeth the 3rd,” Jumin observes. “What was all the fuss about?”

“It’s called I gave him almost every allergy med that exists,” I say through gritted teeth. Jumin shrugs nonchalantly.

The last scene involves Elizabeth the 3rd lounging in Zen’s arms while he pets her. A few seconds after Jumin deposits Elizabeth the 3rd in Zen’s arms, Zen’s eyes and nose start to water, his voice turns hoarse, and he launches into multiple fits of sneezing. Jaehee and I exchange knowing glances. This is worse than I thought it was going to be.  

Zen shoves Elizabeth the 3rd back at Jumin, who gives Zen an odd look before turning his attention back to the cat, cooing at her in affection. I roll my eyes and lean forward to tell the director that I need time to treat Zen’s allergies, and send Zen to the bathroom to wash out his nose, eyes and throat with saline.

Jumin and the director decide this is a good time to break for lunch. Jaehee takes Elizabeth the 3rd back to her dressing room, and I meet Zen back in his to dose him with additional eye drops and one pill of the first-generation antihistamine. I also decide to go ahead and give him the steroids.

He is rubbing at his nose and eyes slightly when we sit down for our meal. “Well, this hasn’t been as bad as I thought it was going to be,” he remarks, but his voice is slightly hoarse.

“Better living through pharmacology,” I quip. “Keep your hands off your eyes, Zen. They’ll swell up more if you keep rubbing them like that.”

“Better living with Doctor MC,” he sighs, but accedes, and keeps his hands occupied with eating. “Thank you, my love.”

“Anytime, dear Zenny,” I return. “That last antihistamine will probably make you tired, but maybe the steroids will help keep you up.”

Zen shrugs. “Better than sneezing my head off and looking like a red raccoon.”

I nod. “That photo from the last party is possibly the only unflattering photo of you I’ve ever seen. I wanted to reach into the screen and wipe the snot off your face. Seven said that was when he knew we were made for each other.”

Zen grins despite himself.

The make-up artist, who normally would have nothing to do to improve on Zen’s perfection, is called on to minimize the swelling and redness around Zen’s eyes, and I explain to Jumin and the director that we are running out of time.

They take stills of Zen with Elizabeth the 3rd and complete the scene after lunch, just before Zen’s eyes and nose start running again, his eyes itching and swelling in earnest. His energy level is also drooping. The director looks to Jumin, then me. “Is there anything else you can do for him?”

I am giving Zen a second first-gen antihistamine pill at this point. “Not right now, and this is probably going to put him to sleep soon. In fact, if you need him to work with Elizabeth the 3rd again, Zen should probably see an allergist.” After a short discussion and viewing rushes, they decide to wrap and bring Zen into a recording studio at a future date to finalize the audio.

I am out of anything else to give Zen for several hours, and he looks miserable. After changing back into his own clothes, we rinse out his eyes, nose and throat again, but the medicine kicks in and he is almost falling asleep on his feet. Jumin’s bodyguards and I help Zen into the car, where he reclines on my lap. I put ice packs and cabbage leaf over his eyes, which have puffed up, his lids swollen almost shut, reddening almost as pink as his irises. Thank goodness for private transportation home. The bodyguards helps me get Zen into his bed in his apartment.

Zen is sound asleep, so I decide I can fit in a run to the grocery store and back before it gets dark. It’s comical that I’m running while Jumin’s car is following me, so I put the groceries in the trunk to keep from having to carry them back.

I take a quick shower, humming contentedly and starting dinner when my phone rings. “Hey, Jaehee,” I greet.

“How is Zen doing, MC?” she asks.

“Alright. He’s asleep right now, but I’ll wake him soon for some dinner.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jaehee says. “Thank you so much for your help today. I don’t think we could have finished shooting so quickly without you.”

“I’m sure you could have if someone else had given Zen the same meds I did.”

“Perhaps,” she accedes, “but no one else would have known to in advance, so I doubt we would have been able to accomplish all that we did today.”

“I was happy to help,” I say honestly. “Jumin can give me credit for being medical consultant on set or something.”

“Do you think it’s likely that Zen will stay asleep the rest of the night?” Jaehee asks.

“Probably,” I reply. “I plan to redose him with the antihistamine after dinner, and he was asleep all last night after it. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Jaehee says slowly, “if he’s asleep, then you won’t need a chaperone tonight.”

Oh! “I see,” I say in understanding. I’m glad we’re on the phone and she can’t see me blush.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk much earlier,” she apologizes. “How was lunch yesterday?”

“It was good,” I reply. “I met Jin-Yun, Zen’s brother. He called his parents, and we went over to their house. They wouldn’t see us, but Zen talked to his mom on the phone.”

“That sounds encouraging,” Jaehee says. 

* * *

 Zen is still passed out in bed when I check on him after preparing our meal, so I decide to load dinner on a tray and bring the it to the bedroom. I set it down on the nightstand, and take a minute to simply admire this beautiful specimen of manhood. Asleep, he is a picture of peace, lying on his side, his hair loose and unbound framing his face. With his eyes shut and the curtains partly drawn, the swelling and redness of his eyes aren’t so obvious. I try to fix his features in my memory and let out a girlish sigh of longing. Finally, I lean forward and kiss him softly, then pull back as he stirs. His left eye opens slightly. “Hi,” I say gently.

His eye shuts again, but a sleepy smile spreads across his face. “Hey, babe.” The rose-colored eye pops open again. “I’m still so--” he yawns “--tired.”

I kiss him on the forehead. “It’s just the medicine,” I explain. “I brought your dinner.”

He smiles again, and pulls me down closer to him. “Okay.” He nibbles at my neck.

I giggle. “Food, Zenny,” I explain.

“Hmm,” he says, nuzzling against me, then freezes suddenly and lets go a series of violent sneezes. I grab the tissue box. He opens his eyes, which look like slits between his puffed-up lids, sits up, blows his nose and wipes his face miserably. “Ugh.”

“You should probably shower, wash out your nose again, and take more medicine after dinner,” I suggest. I set the tray between us so we can begin to eat. “Your eye swelling looks worse when you’re awake,” I observe.

“Don’t remind me,” he says. “If I take more pills, won’t they put me back to sleep?” he asks.

“Probably,” I reply. He snorts in annoyance. “What?” I ask.

“I’m wasting your last night here sleeping,” he grumbles.

I chuckle, and we start eating dinner. “We’ll be together again soon, right?”

Zen nods. “I’ll be in Manila in about ten days, then we’re flying back to Seoul together before you return to New York.”

“Do you mind if I plan a side trip?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I’m all yours,” he says, holding his arms out. “Do with me as you will!” he declares. I pause, because that statement just gives me _too_ many ideas, but he almost knocks over our food in another sneezing fit.  

I grab several more tissues, dabbing at his swollen eyes. “Just let me take care of you tonight,” I say, tucking a stray hair behind his ear.

He sighs reluctantly, finishes his meal, and heads out of the bedroom to shower. I put dinner away, finish packing, and gift-wrap a special package for him before getting ready for bed. When he emerges from the bathroom, I supervise his nighttime dose of nasal sprays and eye drops, and hand him a water cup and four more pills.

Resignedly, he swallows them. “I never thought I’d say this,” he says, “but I look terrible.”

I kiss him on the forehead. “Your incredible healing rate will probably restore you back to your usual gorgeous self tomorrow. Off to bed, now.”

“I love you, MC,” he says sleepily, climbing back into bed. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome, Zenny.” I crawl in under the sheets next to him, and fall asleep in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Using two antihistamines together isn't common, but MC is pulling out all the stops.


	5. Promises We Make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zen and MC have fallen in love, but now face the reality of a long-distance relationship as MC prepares to leave Seoul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With excerpts from the Christmas AU DLC.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, waking me. I stir, and then am almost instantly awake. I sigh in resignation; years of being on call have made it impossible to sleep through anything unless I’m utterly exhausted. Now that I’m finally sleeping well, I realize I am perfectly content to lie here, in Zen’s bed with his arms around me. I procrastinate getting up, just wanting to stay where I am longer.

The phone buzzes again. Zen stirs. I glance at the time and frown slightly, deciding to answer my phone so it doesn’t wake him further. I turn slightly to give Zen a light peck on the cheek, and start to extricate myself from his arms. His eyes stay closed but his lips curve into a small smile, and his arms tighten around me. “Where you goin’?” he mumbles sleepily.

“Phone’s buzzing,” I explain in hushed tones.

His rose-colored eyes crack open. Overnight, the swelling around his eyes has subsided, and his stunning good looks are back to normal. No, I think, back to impossibly perfect. His gaze turns yearning, earnest, burning. “Stay with me,” he pleads.

Well, how do I say no to _that_? “Okay,” I accede. His lips find mine, kissing me softly. “I could get used to waking up like this,” I murmur between kisses.

Zen chuckles in amusement, trailing more kisses down my jaw and throat. “I’m happy to oblige.” His lips return to mine, his kisses growing more demanding. We are both awake now, our bodies fitting together perfectly against each other. I let my hands roam over the firm muscles of his back and shoulders, my heart pounding. I can feel whatever sense of control we have slipping away, as his hands spread a slowly burning fire over my skin, the heat threatening to melt the thin layers of clothing between us.

Zen’s phone starts to ring, and we ignore it, though it persists insistently. We are caught up in the moment, paying no attention to the demands of the world outside. I am just about ready to throw all our plans out the window, when the unexpected sound of a cat yowling interrupts us, and we break apart in surprise. After a short, frantic search, Zen picks up his phone and taps impatiently on it, stopping the racket. He frowns at the screen. “It’s Seven,” he says, heading out to the living room. I follow closely behind, slipping my bathrobe on over my nightgown, as Zen picks up the TV remote to turn to A! News. The clip is from Zen’s press conference, when he introduced me to the audience.

 _“Musical actor Zen surprised us all when,”_ a voice overlays, _“at the RFA party, not only did he refute celebrity Echo Girl’s accusations against him, but introduced an unknown girl from outside the industry to everyone as his girlfriend. We asked our reporters on the street to check how this sits with fans.”_

The setting changes to the exterior of the party premises _. “I believe in Zen!”_ a girl exclaims into the camera. _“Echo Girl is a liar! Zen and his new girlfriend look great together!”_

Another girl grabs the microphone. _“Zen shouldn’t have a girlfriend! How are we supposed to fantasize about him if he’s taken?”_

 _“Who cares who he’s dating?”_ another fan yells. _“We’re fans of Zen’s work! If MC supports him as much as we do, then she’ll inspire him and he’ll be better than ever!”_

 _“I love him more now that he’s revealed his past and weaknesses,”_ yet another girl giggles _. “We all knew he was dedicated, but now we also know he’s not afraid to own the  mistakes he's made. It makes him so much more approachable and real! And he’s so sweet towards MC; such a heartthrob! MC is so lucky!”_

 _“Ugh, she’s nothing special,”_ another fan groans. _“Zen’s looks are perfection and he deserves better! Zen, I’m single! Pick me instead!”_

The scene shifts back to the studio. _“But who is MC,”_ the host asks, _“and why would Zen prefer her to the famous Echo Girl?”_

My heart sinks, but I can’t tear myself away from the screen. It’s like watching a train wreck. Zen mutters under his breath, mashes on his phone with unnecessary force, holds it to his ear and starts speaking in rapid-fire Korean to the party on the other end.

Photos of Echo Girl appear, and… me! With a photo of Zen between us, the entire screen is raining bright graphic pink hearts and confetti. Behind me, Zen’s tone escalates quickly.

 _“Just for you, A! News found out all we could about Zen’s new girlfriend!”_ The scene changes to more grainy photos taken surreptitiously over the last couple of days: Zen and me leaving the restaurant where we met Jin-Yun, and arriving at the studio for the cat food commercial shoot yesterday. _“Her name is MC, and she is a member of RFA, the exclusive charity fundraising organization that includes Zen and high-powered corporate executive Jumin Han! We know MC isn’t in showbiz, and she appears to be staying at Zen’s house!”_  I groan. Another photo appears, this one of me and Jumin’s bodyguards helping a Zen zonked out by antihistamines yesterday into the building. _“They’re accompanied by a pair of men we can only assume to be bodyguards, but yesterday, the bodyguards and MC had to help Zen from their car into the building. Zen appeared drugged! We all know Zen is super-fit, so one has to ask: what is MC doing to Zen?”_ More photos of me: distinctly unflattering, sweaty and puffing during my run yesterday evening, getting groceries at the store, bringing them into the apartment with the bodyguard. “ _Our reporter saw MC and a bodyguard entering Zen’s apartment, but only the bodyguard came out! What are they up to? Are Zen and MC living together--”_ the anchor waggles his eyebrows suggestively, _“before marriage? What kind of woman does that make her? A! News speaks about this latest development with gossip columnist--”_

The screen flickers off, and I jump slightly. Zen has the remote pointed at the TV, but then drops it impatiently on the couch. He takes my hands into his, and I can feel his rose-colored gaze on me. “MC, I’m so sorry,” he says, squeezing my hands reassuringly. “Are you okay?”

The TV spot prickles at thoughts that have been nagging at me for days. “We need to talk,” I say flatly, unable to meet his eyes.

“What about?” he asks cautiously.

“The silver-haired elephant in the room,” I reply. “The fact that we’ve only known each other for two weeks, and I’m leaving tonight.”

I can hear a frown in his voice. “Do we have to discuss this right now? I don’t like thinking about you being gone.”

“Yes, we do,” I insist. “Look, it’s not that I…” I trail off, trying to think of how to best say what’s on my mind. “I think you know how hard I’ve fallen for you, Zen. Or maybe you don’t, because you don’t know me that well.”

“I believe I know you in all the ways that matter, MC,” he says dryly.

“Maybe?” I ask, my insecurities spilling out. “After I leave tonight, what then? I don’t want to tie you up in a long-distance relationship if…” I swallow nervously, and plunge on, “... if you meet someone--someone else you’d rather be… with. And I’d rather we were… truthful to each other.”

“And you don’t think I’m worried about that?” he asks. “What if _you_ meet someone, MC? Someone rich and not bad-looking, halfway around the world and closer to you?”

“What?” I say disbelievingly. “You really think that money is what matters to me? Are you saying I would give my heart so readily to just anyone?”

“You brought it up first,” he says accusingly.

“Are you kidding?” I almost yell. “You’re the most beautiful man on the face of the earth! You’ll have gorgeous women like Echo Girl throwing themselves at you all the time, and fans who think I’m not good enough for you--!”

“Beautiful women hit on me all the time," he admits, and I flinch, "but I’ve explained to you before that’s not what matters to me. I announced to the whole world yesterday that you’re the only woman in the world for me, MC! ” He cups my chin in his hand and lifts it, so I am forced to look into his eyes, which are pleading. “Don’t you trust me, after what we’ve been through?”

I am powerless in the face of his crestfallen look, so I close the distance between us and bury my face in his chest. “Well… yeah,” I reply. “I was just… taken by surprise, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

His long fingers caress my neck and shoulder reassuringly. “You realize they’ll say anything to get ratings, right? They have nothing, so they just make stuff up.” He shakes his head. “This is why I never bothered with meet-and-greets and talking about myself before. I don’t like dragging my personal life into work; I want to be reviewed for my performances, not my popularity.”

I nod in understanding. “Yes, well, what’s done is done, and you did what you had to defend your reputation.” I take a deep, cleansing breath, pull back, and smile at him. “It looks like your true fans will support you, so that’s good.” I incline my head toward the TV.  “We won’t let things like that get in our way, right? No matter what, we’ll trust each other?”

“Of course,” Zen replies, kissing me on the forehead. “Which is not to say I won’t act jealous or possessive sometimes, but I promise I will always trust you.” He smiles wryly. “I’m upset partly because I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

“Don’t worry. I’m yours,” I reassure him. “I have no desire to be in the public spotlight. And if…” My tongue ties, and suddenly I am too shy to continue.

“...If?” Zen prompts.

“Well, if we have… children,” I say, chuckling nervously, “I would want to keep their lives private, unless or until they choose a career in the public eye when they’re older.”

Zen looks thoughtful, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I hated when I was young and people used to want to touch me or take my picture, because I was so pretty. I would want to protect our children.” He peers at me, as my face blushes crimson. “Why are you embarrassed? I already told you I imagined what our baby would look like after meeting you for the first time.”  He pauses thoughtfully, then his face splits into a grin of realization. “Did we just have our first spat?”

“I think so?” I say, raising a brow.

“Come here so we can kiss and make up, then,” he says, sitting down and pulling me into his lap. He kisses me earnestly, then rests his head against my shoulder. “It’s not going to be easy being away from you,” he confesses. “But… I’ve been alone for four years, and part of that was because I haven’t had time for a relationship. Fortunately, you have your own career, your own dreams to pursue that will keep you busy, too… so in a sense, you’re the perfect girlfriend for me.”

I draw back in surprise. “I am?” I ask doubtfully.

He nods in affirmation. “I’ve thought about this a lot. I can work and practice hard and not worry about you waiting at home for me. And you can do the same. Do I wish we could spend more time together? Of course. I’ll spend every day looking forward to the next time I can hold you, and when we can finally get married and live together. But for now… I almost hate to admit it, but it’ll be easier to control the beast if you aren’t here with me all the time. So, till then… let’s plan this.”

“Oh… kay?” I say, uncertainly at first. “You mean, like how you plan to visit me in Manila before my break ends.”

“Exactly,” he nods in agreement. “Then… well, what about Christmas, for example? Could we see each other then?”

“I won’t be able to leave New York since I’ll be on call,” I explain, “but there will be days when I’m off.”

He nods. “See? So I’ll come to New York. I’ve always wanted to see a show on Broadway, and Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Now I have the perfect excuse to go, and believe me when I say I’m not going to miss working on Christmas Day. When’s your next vacation after that?”

“How about next spring? I can visit on your birthday,” I suggest.

“I’d love that.” His smile widens. “See how easy that was?”

“Planning is easy, but being apart won’t be,” I sigh. “Though at least we can talk everyday. On the messenger.”

“We’ll both be working hard, so it’ll help pass the time,” he offers thoughtfully.

“You really have been thinking about this, haven’t you?” I ask.

“Of course,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “MC, I want you to know that I will always be waiting for you.”

I digest this slowly. “There's something I don’t understand,” I finally say, confused.

“What don’t you understand?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

“How I got so lucky,” I reply, brushing a stray hair behind his ear. "Why someone as beautiful as you would choose me."

Zen frowns. “‘Lucky’ is hardly what I call nearly getting blown up at Rika’s apartment, almost being kidnapped by that weirdo, or your husband dying from cancer.”

“Well, yes, those were pretty bad,” I acknowledge. “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, you’ve got to take the bad with the good. Like… it almost destroyed me when Jim died, but I would do it all over again if given the chance. Or the bomb at Rika’s, or having to share the public you with the whole world... they’re part of the story of how I became who I am, and how I fell in love with you, Zen.”

Zen’s answering smile is so beautiful that my heart catches in my throat. “I’m the lucky one, MC, because you've been so willing to support me despite everything that's happened. You get me; you understand what's important to me. I'm not just a pretty face or arm candy with you,” he says softly. We sit quietly for a few moments, just holding each other close.  Eventually he glances at his phone and says, “Now, though, you need to eat.” 

I chuckle at his obsession with feeding me, and decide not to bring up his water-and-alcohol days again. Zen puts me back on my feet and takes my hand, leading the way to the kitchen. “Did Seven call to tell you about the news report?” I ask. “Was that him you were yelling at?”

We set about the business of putting breakfast together, and it is a comfortable, domestic rhythm in his tiny kitchen. “Seven texted to tell me that was on A! News,” Zen explains. “I called the agency. With the scandal over, they think any publicity is good for my career, but I told them this was crossing a line. We had a… disagreement.” Zen shakes his head and smiles wryly. “I may need to find a new manager.”

My phone buzzes again and I glance at it. “Seven’s asking us to log in,” I say aloud. We both turn the messenger on as we sit down to breakfast.

 

_MC enters the chatroom._

_Zen enters the chatroom._

_707: There they are._

_Jaehee Kang: About time._

_Zen: Dude. My phone started making weird noises earlier._

_707: lololol. You have no idea how strong my signals are lololol_

_Zen: Signals??? Did you hack into my phone and change my ringtone?!_

_707: It’s a company secret lol_

_Zen: My phone started making weird cat yowls. I was terrified!_

_707: Meow meow_

_Zen: ..._

_Jaehee Kang: We thought you needed to know about the TV report._

_707: That’s the only reason I did it! I tried calling MC first, then you, but neither of you were answering…_

_MC: Thanks for letting us know, Seven._

_Yoosung: Took long enough. What were you two doing?_

 

I glance over at Zen. He leers suggestively at me, and I roll my eyes to the ceiling.

 

_Zen: Never mind that._

_Jaehee Kang: ..._

_MC: I guess I thought having Jumin’s guards around would keep the paparazzi away._

_Jumin Han: They will not be able to come too close._

_Jaehee Kang: I was afraid something like this would happen._

_MC: It’s annoying, but I’ll be okay._

_Yoosung: We should find a way to protect MC better!_

_707: I took the liberty of changing the address for fan-mail on your website, Zen, but it’ll take me a while to track down and delete all traces of your home address from the public domain._

_Jumin Han: You should be more careful about being seen together in public because of all the media attention._

_Zen: I had an argument with my agent earlier. Now that the scandal is over, the agency thinks any publicity is good._

_Jumin Han: What you need is the ability to control the flow of information to the public._

_MC: How do you do that?_

_Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han, I can set up a meeting with C &R’s publicity arm to sign Zen to our agency… if you’d like to do that, Zen. _

_Jumin Han: Excellent idea, Assistant Kang, since we will be launching the Holistic for Glorious Cats campaign soon. It will be easier to plan the continued strategy for Zen's recovery from scandal if we control both aspects._

 

“Is there any business Jumin’s company isn’t involved in?” I blurt out loud to Zen. He shrugs.

 

_Zen: … I’ll meet with them, but I reserve the right to decide whether I want to sign or not._

_Jumin Han: Of course._

_Jaehee Kang: I'll set it up, then._

_MC: Different question: what time should we leave for the airport?_

_Jaehee Kang: You’ll want to be there a couple of hours before your flight. There are a lot of interesting things to do at Incheon._

_Yoosung: I wish we could get together before MC leaves._

_Jumin Han: That shouldn’t be difficult._

_Zen: You’re kidding, right? We’ve got paparazzi following us._

_Jumin Han: Assistant Kang, would you please arrange a private luncheon for RFA’s members in one of Incheon’s VIP lounges?_

_707: Private luncheon? VIP lounge? Kewl!_

_Jaehee Kang: I'll make the phone calls, and will let you all know the details when they are set._

_MC: Thank you, Jumin._

_707: I’ll pick Yoosung up in my baby car._

_Yoosung: Great, we’ll see everyone later!_

 

I chuckle and shake my head in disbelief. Jumin may act like a robot sometimes, but he cares more about all the RFA members than he lets on.

I put my phone down, and remember the gift I had gotten for Zen in Toegyero. “Oh, I wanted to give you something. Wait here,” I tell him. I retrieve the wrapped present from its hiding place, and place the box, over a foot square on each side, on the table in front of him.

Zen’s expression is gleeful. “I love presents!” he says, eagerly tearing the wrapping paper. “I get too many joke presents on my birthday because it’s April Fools.” He opens the box, and lifts the gift out of it--a motorcycle helmet, gleaming white and emblazoned with silver flames. “A helmet?”

“I know you like riding your motorcycle,” I say slowly, “so I’m not going to tell you not to do it, Zen. But I would appreciate you keeping this--” I plant a kiss on the top of his head “--as safe as possible. It’s very, very important to me.”

Zen smiles appreciatively. “I have a helmet, but it’s not as nice as this one,” he says, “and I left it at the warehouse that day the scandal broke out about Kyungju.”

“Please,” I ask sincerely, “ _please_ always wear one, Zen. It only takes one bad accident. And V may not be there next time.”

“Okay,” he says. “I promise. Oh, my turn.”

“What?” I say in surprise, as he rises and goes to pull something out of one of the pockets of his white Z logo coat. “You didn’t have to--”

A pack of cigarettes falls to the floor. I fold my arms together, frowning. “One of my _least_ favorite things. Do you know that eighty percent of cancers are associated with cigarette use? It’ll give you wrinkles and--” I make a face “--bad breath. I may refuse to kiss you.”

“I’m quitting, I’m quitting!” Zen says, hurriedly picking up the cigarettes and tossing them in the trash. “See?”

I sigh. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

He looks at me squarely. “MC, have you seen me smoke in the time we’ve spent together?”

“Well, no,” I admit.

“I don’t need them,” he declares. “It was an act of youthful rebellion when I started, and something I fall back on when I get stressed. But now, all I have to do is think of you and this disapproving little frown--” he says, reaching to trace the furrow between my brows “--and my desire to smoke evaporates.”

“Good,” I huff.

“So cute,” he says, playfully kissing the corner of my mouth. “Right. My turn.” He holds out a hand, and in the palm is cupped a small velvet box. I take it from him and raise the lid. Nestled in the box is a smooth, white oval pendant set on the ends of a chain. “I was thinking,” he starts carefully, “that since you wear something that reminds you of Jim, you wouldn’t mind wearing something from me?”

“Of course,” I reply. “It’s beautiful,” I say admiringly, lifting the pendant out of the box. “It’s the same color as your hair.” I turn the pendant over in my hand, and there is a Z in a heart engraved on the back, which makes me smile. “This is my heart, with you in it,” I say softly.

He kisses me gently, clasping my hands in his. “Oh, MC, you have no idea how happy that makes me. I’m so happy I could die right now."

"Please don't," I plead.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologizes, "that was insensitive of me to say something like that. What I mean is that, when I'm with you like this, I feel like we’re the only ones in this whole wide world. I’m scared my heart’s gonna melt down if I feel any happier than this. Would you laugh if I say that I’d be sadder about not being able to kiss you, than my heart melting down?”

The appropriate response to this seems to be kiss him again. “I won't laugh, Zenny, I promise. Can you help me put it on?” I ask, turning slightly and lifting the hair off my neck so he can fasten the clasp behind it. He does, and I turn back to face him so he can admire the necklace on me.

Zen runs a finger over the white stone at the base of my throat, the knuckles of his hand skimming the smooth skin above the lace at the deep V neckline of my nightgown, where the bathrobe has loosened. He takes a deep breath and pulls his hand away, making a fist. I see desire burning in his eyes, which close, and then open again. 

“Are you okay?” I ask carefully. I pull the bathrobe demurely across my chest, suddenly very conscious of the skin on my chest still prickling from his touch, and the fact that we are both still in our rumpled sleepwear. I remind myself that I had resolved to try to help him keep "the beast" under control.

“This is embarrassing,” he admits, “but I’m barely holding myself back right now. I keep getting greedy, but I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I’m going to be patient,” he says decisively. “If I keep showing you how eager I am… What if you get scared and run away?”

“I’m not going to run away,” I reassure him, biting my lip in concern. "You should know that I... want... you too."

His eyes widen, and he makes a visible effort to tear his gaze away my lips. “God, it’s getting harder every second to hold back,” he groans. “You’re not trying to test me right now, are you?" I hold as still as possible, and say nothing more, as he sighs. "Even if you do run away, I’ll be fine. I can wait. But if we wait too long, I don’t know what kind of beast I’d become in that time without you.”

My breath catches; desire is plainly evident in his eyes, and I enumerate the reasons in my head we decided to wait: he wants to follow the proper order of things according to Korean tradition. That means reconciling with his parents, introducing me properly to them, and having no blemish on my reputation beforehand so they'll approve my joining the family. “Should I be scared, Zenny?” I ask meekly.

He shakes his head. “I... always want to be a gentleman for you. I want to protect you so that you never get hurt. But… all men are beasts. Gentlemen are no exception, so be careful of me at night,” he warns, grinning crookedly, which makes me smile. He closes his eyes again, squeezing them tight in concentration. “Dear Lord, Buddha, Jesus Christ,” he mutters, “let me keep control of myself. When I see your playful smile, I can’t help but want to make you see that I’m a man--! I’m trying so hard to calm myself down right now.” He starts to sing quietly to himself, so softly that I have to lean closer to hear him. I giggle when I realize he’s singing the Korean national anthem under his breath to distract himself. 

He opens his eyes, in control once more, taking me into his arms again and kissing me soundly. Pulling back, he says, “That’s it for now. The rest I’ll leave for next time.”

“Let's do that,” I agree. “I’ll… go finish packing.” I use my arms to push up and away from the table, not trusting my legs, which feel like they've turned to jelly, to hold me up just yet. I hope we don’t have to wait _too_ long;  _I_ might explode. I decide it's probably best to keep this to myself for now.

“Meanwhile, I…” Zen says wryly, heading to the bathroom, “am going to go take a long, cold shower." He sighs in resignation. "Probably one of many."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing what I think could have happened in the days right after Zen's good ending, and appreciate your patience when I got stuck for months at a time. Thanks for reading!


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